Was bearing by compass sow-west and by south,
And the name of the ship was the Peggy of Cork,
Well freighted with bacon and butter and pork.
Now, this ship had a captain, Macmorris by name,
And little O’Patrick was mate of the same;
For Bristol they sailed, but by nautical scope,
They contrived to be lost by the Cape of Good Hope.
Of all the Cork boys that the vessel could boast,
Only little O’P. made a swim to the coast;
And when he revived from a sort of a trance,
He saw a big Black with a very long lance.
Says the savage, says he, in some Hottentot tongue,
“Bash Kuku my gimmel bo gumborry bung!”
Then blew a long shell, to the fright of our elf,
And down came a hundred as black as himself.
They brought with them _guattul_, and pieces of _klam_,
The first was like beef, and the second like lamb;
“Don’t I know,” said O’P., “what the wretches are at?
They’re intending to eat me as soon as I’m fat!”
In terror of coming to pan, spit, or pot,
His rations of _jarbul_ he suffered to rot;
He would not touch _purry_ or _doolberry-lik_,
But kept himself _growing_ as thin as a stick.
Though broiling the climate, and parching with drouth,
He would not let _chobbery_ enter his mouth,
But kicked down the _krug_ shell, tho’ sweetened with _natt_,--
“I an’t to be pisoned the likes of a rat!”
At last the great _Joddry_ got quite in a rage,
And cried, “O mi pitticum dambally nage!
The _chobbery_ take, and put back on the shelf,
Or give me the _krug_ shell, I’ll drink it myself!
The _doolberry-lik_ is the best to be had,
And the _purry_ (I chewed it myself) is not bad;
The _jarbul_ is fresh, for I saw it cut out,
And the _Bok_ that it came from is grazing about.
My _jumbo_! but run off to Billery Nang,
And tell her to put on her _jigger_ and _tang_,
And go with the _Bloss_ to the man of the sea,
And say that she comes as his _Wulwul_ from me.”
Now Billery Nang was as Black as a sweep,
With thick curly hair like the wool of a sheep,
And the moment he spied her, said little O’P.,
“Sure the Divil is dead, and his Widow’s at me!”
But when, in the blaze of her Hottentot charms,
She came to accept him for life in her arms,
And stretched her thick lips to a broad grin of love,
A Raven preparing to bill like a Dove,
With a soul full of dread he declined the grim bliss,
Stopped her Molyneux arms, and eluded her kiss;
At last, fairly foiled, she gave up the attack,
And _Joddry_ began to look blacker than black;
“By Mumbo! by Jumbo!--why here is a man,
That won’t be made happy, do all that I can;
He will not be married, lodged, clad, and well fed,
Let the _Rham_ take his _shangwang_ and chop off his head!”
THE ASSISTANT DRAPERS’ PETITION.
Pity the sorrows of a class of men,
Who, though they bow to fashion and frivolity;
No fancied claims or woes fictitious pen,
But wrongs ell-wide, and of a lasting quality.
Oppress’d and discontented with our lot,
Amongst the clamorous we take our station
A host of Ribbon Men--yet is there not
One piece of Irish in our agitation.
We do revere Her Majesty the Queen;
We venerate our Glorious Constitution:
We joy King William’s advent should have been,
And only want a Counter Resolution.
Tis not Lord Russell and his final measure,
’Tis not Lord Melbourne’s counsel to the throne,
Tis not this Bill, or that, gives us displeasure,
The measures we dislike are all our own.
The Cash Law the “Great Western” loves to name,
The tone our foreign policy pervading;
The Corn Laws--none of these we care to blame,
Our evils we refer to over-trading.
By Tax or Tithe our murmurs are not drawn;
We reverence the Church--but hang the cloth!
We love her ministers--but curse the lawn!
We have, alas! too much to do with both!
We love the sex:--to serve them is a bliss!
We trust they find us civil, never surly;
All that we hope of female friends is this,
That their last linen may be wanted early.
Ah! who can tell the miseries of men
That serve the very cheapest shops in town?
Till faint and weary, they leave off at ten,
Knock’d up by ladies beating of ’em down!
But has not Hamlet his opinion given--
O Hamlet had a heart for Drapers’ servants!
“That custom is”--say custom after seven--
“More honour’d in the breach than the observance.”
O come then, gentle ladies, come in time,
O’erwhelm our counters, and unload our shelves;
Torment us all until the seventh chime,
But let us have the remnant to ourselves!
We wish of knowledge to lay in a stock,
And not remain in ignorance incurable;--
To study Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Locke,
And other fabrics that have proved so durable.
We long for thoughts of intellectual kind,
And not to go bewilder’d to our beds;
With stuff and fustian taking up the mind,
And pins and needles running in our heads!
For oh! the brain gets very dull and dry,
Selling from morn till night for cash or credit;
Or with a vacant face and vacant eye,
Watching cheap prints that Knight did never edit.
Till sick with toil, and lassitude extreme,
We often think when we are dull and vapoury,
The bliss of Paradise was so supreme,
Because that Adam did not deal in drapery.
SYMPTOMS OF OSSIFICATION.
“An indifference to tears, and blood, and human suffering, that
could only belong to a _Boney-parte_.--_Life of Napoleon._
Time was, I always had a drop
For any tale of sigh or sorrow;
My handkerchief I used to sop
Till often I was forced to borrow;
I don’t know how it is, but now
My eyelids seldom want a-drying;
The doctor, p’rhaps, could tell me how--
I fear my heart is ossifying!
O’er Goethe how I used to weep,
With turnip cheeks and nose of scarlet,
When Werter put himself to sleep
With pistols kiss’d and clean’d by Charlotte;
Self-murder is an awful sin,
No joke there is in bullets flying,
But now at such a tale I grin--
I fear my heart is ossifying!
The Drama once could shake and thrill
My nerves, and set my tears a-stealing,
The Siddons then could turn at will
Each plug upon the main of feeling;
At Belvidera now I smile,
And laugh while Mrs. Haller’s crying;
’Tis odd, so great a change of style--
I fear my heart is ossifying!
That heart was such--some years ago,
To see a beggar quite would shock it,
And in his hat I used to throw
The quarter’s savings of my pocket:
I never wish--as I did _then_!--
The means from my own purse supplying,
To turn them all to gentlemen--
I fear my heart is ossifying!
We’ve had some serious things of late,
Our sympathies to beg or borrow,
[Illustration: “DOG-BERRY.”]
[Illustration: THE LAST CUT.]
New melo-drames, of tragic fate,
And acts, and songs, and tales of sorrow;
Miss Zouch’s case, our eyes to melt,
And sundry actors sad good-bye-ing,
But Lord!--so little have I felt,
I’m sure my heart is ossifying!
A CUSTOM-HOUSE BREEZE.
One day--no matter for the month or year,
A Calais packet, just come over,
And safely moor’d within the pier,
Began to land her passengers at Dover;
All glad to end a voyage long and rough.
And during which,
Through roll and pitch,
The Ocean-King had _sick_ophants enough!
Away, as fast as they could walk or run,
Eager for steady rooms and quiet meals,
With bundles, bags, and boxes at their heels,
Away the passengers all went but one,
A female, who from some mysterious check,
Still linger’d on the steamer’s deck,
As if she did not care for land a tittle,
For horizontal rooms, and cleanly victual--
Or nervously afraid to put
Her foot
Into an Isle described as “tight and little.”
In vain commissioner and touter,
Porter and waiter throng’d about her;
Boring, as such officials only bore--
In spite of rope and barrow, knot and truck,
Of plank and ladder, there she stuck,
She couldn’t, no, she wouldn’t go on shore.
“But, ma’am,” the steward interfered,
“The wessel must be cleared.
You mustn’t stay aboard, ma’am, no one don’t!
It’s quite agin the orders so to do--
And all the passengers is gone but you.”
Says she, “I cannot go ashore and won’t!”
“You ought to!”
“But I can’t!”
“You must!”
“I shan’t!”
At last, attracted by the racket,
’Twixt gown and jacket,
The captain came himself, and cap in hand,
Begg’d very civilly to understand
Wherefore the lady could not leave the packet.
“Why then,” the lady whispered with a shiver,
That made the accents quiver,
“I’ve got some foreign silks about me pinn’d,
In short, so many things, all contraband,
To tell the truth I am afraid to land,
In such a _searching_ wind!”
[Illustration]
_Duncan Grant & Co., Printers, Edinburgh._
* * * * *
THOMAS HOOD’S WORKS.
HOOD’S WORKS. Complete in 10 vols. All the Writings of the Author
of the “Song of the Shirt” (“Hood’s Own” First and Second Series
included). With all the original Cuts by Cruikshank, Leech, &c. A
complete re-issue. In 10 vols., crown 8vo, cloth, 50s.; half calf,
70s.; half morocco, 70s.
COMPLETE EDITION OF HOOD’S POETICAL WORKS IN TWO VOLUMES.
1. HOOD’S SERIOUS POEMS. A New and Complete Edition, with full-page
Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 5s.
2. HOOD’S COMIC POEMS. A New and Complete Edition, with full-page
Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 5s.
⁂ _These two volumes contain the entire poems of the late THOMAS HOOD,
which are now collected and issued complete for the first time._
HOOD’S OWN; or, Laughter from Year to Year. First and Second Series
in one vol., complete with all the original Illustrations by
Cruikshank, Leech, &c. In entirely new and handsome binding. Now
ready, new edition. Royal 8vo, cloth gilt, 10s. 6d.
HOOD’S OWN; or, Laughter from Year to Year. First Series. A new
edition. In one vol. 8vo, illustrated by 350 Woodcuts. Cloth plain
7s. 6d.; gilt edges, 8s. 6d.
HOOD’S OWN. Second Series. In one vol., 8vo., illustrated by
numerous Woodcuts. Cloth plain, 7s. 6d.; gilt edges, 8s. 6d.
HOOD’S POEMS. Twentieth Edition. In one vol., fcap. 8vo, cloth
plain, 5s.
HOOD’S POEMS OF WIT AND HUMOUR. Sixteenth Edition. In one vol.,
fcap. 8vo, cloth plain, 3s. 6d.
HOOD’S WHIMS AND ODDITIES. In Prose and Verse. With 87 original
designs. A new edition. In one vol., fcap. 8vo, cloth plain, 3s.
6d.
HOOD’S WHIMS AND ODDITIES AND WIT AND HUMOUR. With 87 original
designs. In one vol., fcap. 8vo, 6s.
* * * * *
LONDON: E. MOXON, SON, & CO., 1 AMEN CORNER, PATERNOSTER ROW, E. C.
* * * * *
_New Books and New Editions._
Moxon’s Popular Poets.
Edited by WILLIAM MICHAEL ROSSETTI.
Crown 8vo, with Eight Illustrations, in elegant cloth gilt, gilt edges,
3_s._ 6_d._; morocco antique, 7_s._ 6_d._; ivory enamel, 7_s._ 6_d._;
morocco extra, 10_s._ 6_d._; elegant tree calf, 10_s._ 6_d._
The Press and the Public, alike in Great Britain and her Colonies and in
the United States, unite in their testimony to the immense superiority
of Messrs. Moxon’s “Popular Poets” over any other similar Collections
published by any other House. Their possession of the Copyright Works of
Coleridge, Hood, Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth, and other great National
Poets, places this Series above rivalry.
_New Volume now ready._
21. =HOOD’S POETICAL WORKS.= Illustrated by GUSTAVE DORÉ and ALFRED
THOMPSON. Second Series.
1. BYRON.
2. LONGFELLOW.
3. WORDSWORTH.
4. SCOTT.
5. SHELLEY.
6. MOORE.
7. HOOD.
8. KEATS.
9. COLERIDGE.
10. BURNS.
11. TUPPER.
12. MILTON.
13. CAMPBELL.
14. POPE.
15. COWPER.
16. HUMOROUS.
17. AMERICAN.
18. MRS. HEMANS.
19. THOMSON.
20. MISCELLANEOUS. [_In the Press._
=MOXON’S LIBRARY POETS.= The complete and continuing success of
“Moxon’s Poets,” in the popular Three-and-Sixpenny Series, has
induced the House to publish a LIBRARY EDITION of “Moxon’s Poets,”
price Five Shillings per volume. Handsomely printed on good paper,
either half Roxburghe or cloth, gilt edges. The Entire Series of
the Popular Poets is now included in this issue.
_CHARLES LAMB’S WORKS.--CENTENARY EDITION._
Completed in Six Volumes. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, £2 2_s._ complete.
THE LIFE, LETTERS, AND WRITINGS OF CHARLES LAMB.
Edited by PERCY FITZGERALD, M.A., F.S.A.
This is the first Complete Edition of “Lamb’s Life and Writings” that
has been offered to the public. The Memoir by Talfourd, with the “Final
Memorials,” has been combined, while all the curious and interesting
information that has come to light since he wrote has been added in the
form of Notes, thus supplying a complete view of Lamb’s career. The
letters have been placed with the rest of the correspondence, where also
will be found many hitherto unprinted and uncollected letters. The
miscellaneous pieces comprise many new articles in prose and verse,
while a full Index to the Life, Works, and Letters will be given at the
end of the last volume.
“A very charming biography, as well as a subtle and candid criticism on
dear old Elia.”--_Standard._
_E. Moxon, Son, & Co., Dorset Buildings, Salisbury Square._
* * * * *
_New Books and New Editions._
E. MOXON, SON, & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS.
_By Express Permission of Her Most Gracious Majesty._
Just Published, A GRAND WORK ON THE ROYAL RESIDENCE, WINDSOR CASTLE.
WINDSOR CASTLE, Picturesque and Descriptive.
The Text by the late B. B. WOODWARD, B.A., F.S.A., Her Majesty’s
Librarian at Windsor. Containing Twenty-three Permanent Photographs,
Interior and Exterior Views, by the Heliotype Process. Large Folio, half
bound morocco, gilt edges, 105_s._
NOW READY, A COMPLETE COLLECTION OF
THE PROSE WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
Edited by the Rev. ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
⁂ Dedicated by Express Permission to Her Majesty, and, along with the
dedication, a _Hitherto Unpublished Poem_ by Wordsworth, addressed to
the Queen on sending a gift copy of his Poems to the Royal Library,
Windsor. Three Vols., cloth, demy 8vo, 42_s._
NOW READY, A NEW EDITION OF
=EASTERN LIFE, Past and Present.= By HARRIET MARTINEAU. With New
Preface by the Author, and Page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 7_s._
6_d._
=TENNYSON-DORÉ SERIES OF ILLUSTRATED BOOKS.= With Engravings on Steel from
Drawings by GUSTAVE DORÉ. In cloth gilt, gilt edges.
THE IDYLLS OF THE KING. Thirty-seven Engravings. In one magnificent
folio volume, 73_s._ 6_d._
ELAINE. Nine Engravings. Folio, 21_s._
ENID. Nine Engravings. Folio, 21_s._
VIVIEN. Nine Engravings. Folio, 21_s._
GUINEVERE. Nine Engravings. Folio, 21_s._
⁂ VIVIEN and GUINEVERE bound in One Vol., 42_s._
THE HOOD-DORE.
=THOMAS HOOD.= Illustrated by GUSTAVE DORÉ. With Nine Engravings on Steel,
from Original Drawings by GUSTAVE DORÉ, and many Woodcut Illustrations,
folio, cloth gilt, gilt edges, 21_s._
Just ready, the New and Only Complete Edition, in Ten Vols., crown
8vo, cloth gilt, price 50_s._; half calf, 70_s._; half morocco,
70_s._
=The Complete Works of Thomas Hood=, in Ten Volumes, containing all the
Writings of this Popular Author (“HOOD’S OWN,” First and Second Series,
HOOD’S COMIC and SERIOUS POEMS included), with all the Original
Illustrations by CRUIKSHANK, LEECH, &c.
⁂ This Edition contains also the Memorials of THOMAS HOOD, Edited
by his SON and DAUGHTER.
=Thomas Hood.= Illustrated by BIRKET FOSTER. First Series. With
Engravings, 21_s._
=Thomas Hood.= Again Illustrated by BIRKET FOSTER. Large 4to, cloth gilt,
gilt edges, 21_s._
_E. Moxon, Son, & Co., Dorset Buildings, Salisbury Square._
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Tarantula.
[2] The name of a well-known lion at that time in the Zoological
Gardens.
[3] A word caught from some American Trader in passing.
[4] See the story of Sidi Nonman, in the “Arabian Nights.”
[5] Captain Kater, the moon’s surveyor.
[6] The doctor’s composition for a _night-cap_.
[7] “Since this poem was written, Doctor Ireland and those in
authority under him have reduced the fares. It is gratifying to the
English people to know that while butcher’s meat is rising tombs are
falling.”--_Note in Third Edition._
[8] The daughter of William Harvey, the artist.
[9] Solomon Eagle.
[10] The late favourite of the King’s Theatre, who left the pas seul of
life, for a perpetual _Ball_. Is not that her effigy now commonly borne
about by the Italian image vendors--an ethereal form holding a wreath
with both hands above her head--and her husband, in emblem, beneath her
foot?
[11] Geysers:--the boiling springs in Iceland.
[12] Query, _purly_?--Printer’s Devil.
[13] This word is omitted in the later edition.
[14] The Adelphi.
[15] The name of the lion in the Zoological Gardens.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Comic Poems of Thomas Hood, by Thomas Hood